


call it anything but

by softintelligence



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took three weeks of convincing before Mizael stopped bringing home giant red crystals to "decorate" the living room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	call it anything but

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adreus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreus/gifts).



> Written for the prompt on the Zexal Fillathon a million years ago: "Barian(s) adding little touches to their new places to make it feel like home. There's always something missing, but you make do, right?"

It took three weeks of convincing before Mizael stopped bringing home giant red crystals to "decorate" the living room.

"It's not practical," Durbe said.

"It's not meant to be," Mizael said, glaring daggers into Alit's and Gilag's backs as they played on the game console. Both Alit and Gilag had their rooms stuffed to the brim full of trinkets and useless items that were far less practical than the crystals. Alit had boxing gloves hung all over his room. When would he use any of those boxing gloves? And Gilag just had posters of Chono Sanagi up, everywhere, enough that Mizael remembered that the idol's name was Chono Sanagi to begin with! It was ridiculous and unfair! The crystals made it comfortable! The crystals made it ... livable. 

"Mizael," Durbe said. "We don't live in the Barian World anymore."

Mizael snorted, looked away. "I know that." Mizael snuck a sideglance at Durbe, who was still standing there, a bright and patient smile on his face. "I won't bring home anymore crystals," Mizael said.

But the house was still awkward. Everything was soft and rounded. Where Mizael was supposed to be able to see his reflection, he was only met by the soft, muted paint on the walls, the inoffensive color of the ground. Outside, the sun was too harsh. There wasn't anywhere to go to think quietly, no dark corner that was as secluded and intimate as it was open and reflective. 

"Yo, it's way nicer here than in the Barian World," Alit said one day, as Mizael came home from school. Without crystals, juts like he'd promised Durbe. "C'mon, they've got television here!"

"We got nice beds," Gilag said, flashing Mizael a grin and a thumbs up. 

"Yeah," Mizael said. He went straight to his room and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

It was better here. Durbe was here. Kaito was here. And so were Nasch and Merag, which made Durbe happy, which made Mizael happy, too. They had ... friends. It wasn't just the seven of them anymore. 

Mizael rang up Kaito on the weekend and asked him if he'd like to duel. Kaito had chuckled, said: "Feeling lonely?" and Mizael sat up straight from his bed and shouted into the D-Gazer, "I'm not lonely, idiot! I want to see if you've improved any!" 

They spent the rest of the day dueling, until Kaito said, "Don't you have school tomorrow?" chuckling again, and Mizael stomped his way home.

There was a package outside for Durbe. Mizael tried to pick it up, struggling, and managed to somehow get the door open while carrying the box inside. "Durbe," he said. 

Durbe was on the couch. "Mizael!" He lit up. "My box came!" 

"It's heavy," Mizael grunted. He carefully set the box down on the coffee table. "What's in it?"

"Some books and glyphs, from my ruins," Durbe said. "I asked Kaito and Chris to look for them for me. "We're here, but no need to forget the past." He smiled at Mizael. "Did you have fun with Kaito?"

"Fun?" Mizael snorted. "He's a hundred years too early to be fun." 

Durbe laughed. It would have been annoying if Mizael didn't know Durbe had a heart of gold. "I think I'll stay out here and read for a bit."

Mizael shrugged and went to his room. Even in the relative darkness, he saw the glinting red light, and he flipped the lights on.

On his bedside drawer was a carved crystal dragon, serpentine, just like Jinlong. Mizael walked over and picked up the sculpture. It had been carved from the red crystals he'd found ... 

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a piece of paper and turned his attention to it. It was in Durbe's neat, proper handwriting:

Mizael,

The present is made from the past.

Yours,  
Durbe 

Mizael placed the carving of Jinlong down on top of the note. He skulked back into the living room, where Durbe was still sitting on the couch, sifting through some books. Alit and Gilag had joined him, but only to play games on the television. It was some sort of idol rhythm game this time. 

"Durbe." Mizael stood at the end of the couch, looking down at the top of Durbe's skull, and finally sat down next to him. 

"Hi to you too," Alit said without looking over his shoulder.

Mizael rolled his eyes. "Alit, Gilag."

"Hey," Durbe said, absorbed in his books. "What's up?"

"I'm home," Mizael said. 

"Welcome home," and it wasn't just Durbe who said it--it was Alit and Gilag, too, and Mizael allowed himself to smile.


End file.
